I write today with a mixture of sorrow, anger and hope. I am fed up with what I have called in my book Nigeria in Decay: The Path to Rebirth the incessant, brutal kidnappings, murders and terror that have scarred our land and our people. And so when Donald Trump publicly designated Nigeria as a “Country of Particular Concern” (CPC) for religious freedom violations, and went further, warning of possible military intervention “guns-a-blazing” to wipe out the terrorists killing Christians, I found the message somewhat soothing.
I want to say: I stand with that. I stand with that urgency. I stand with the recognition, no matter the politics, that our land is bleeding. For far too long, Nigerians, our Christians, our civilians, our children have been the prey of armed groups: sectarian, terrorising, destabilising. I have read the reports and I’ve lived through the stories. The agonised mothers. The empty chairs. The silent churches where once voices rang. And I cannot remain silent.
When Mr Trump declared that “Christianity is facing an existential threat in Nigeria,” and said the U.S. had ordered the Pentagon to prepare for possible “fast, vicious” action in Nigeria if killings of Christians continue, I heard in his words a clarion call. Not because I think foreign guns are the final answer, but because finally someone recognised: enough. Someone said: this cannot go on.
I am frustrated with our own government’s inability or unwillingness to protect civilians. I am angry at repeated narratives that suggest this violence is some distant tribal feud or pastoral quarrel; when in truth, men and women are being snatched, slaughtered, terrorised in ways that cut at the soul of our nation. And I have written that if Nigeria is to be reborn, we must first demand accountability and protection for our people. If the international community’s spotlight helps with that, then I welcome it.
Let me be clear: I do not blindly celebrate the notion of external military strikes. I know very well we carry our own wounds of colonialism, sovereignty, external interference. But I also know something else: If our land is allowed to descend into chaos, if the killing of Christians (and fellow human beings) continues at scale without response, then our rebirth will be stolen. I am willing to say: if the U.S. designation and threat forces our government to wake up—forces the international community to pay attention—then I take that as a positive. The story in my book is one of Nigeria in decay: of promise squandered, of courage tested. But also of rebirth possible. And this declaration adds urgency to that narrative.
I remember the chapters: how I wrote of the kidnappings in the north, the herders-farmers clashes, the church bombings, the fear that grips hundreds of thousands of families. I wrote how the land of poets and inventors and resilient people had become ground zero of terror fatigue. The designation of CPC and the threat of intervention say: we will no longer tolerate your children being taken, your congregations being terrorised, your churches burned. That resonates deeply with me.
The Fulani Jihadist Agenda: A Relentless March Toward Islamization
Let us stop deceiving ourselves that these attacks are random as the truth is plain before our eyes. The Christians of Nigeria have become the primary targets of these relentless waves of terror, and to deny it is to aid the killers through silence. From Benue to Plateau, from Southern Kaduna to Taraba and parts of Niger State, the blood of innocent Christians cries out from the soil, and yet the world pretends not to hear.
I am convinced, and I state it boldly: what we are witnessing is not random violence, nor mere “farmer–herder clashes” as the media conveniently calls it. It is appearing to be the continuation of a long-standing Fulani jihadist mission,one that began generations ago now reborn in a modern form, armed with sophisticated weapons and emboldened by the complacency, and sometimes complicity, of those in power.
Their goal appears simple but sinister: to overrun the Middle Belt, erase Christian communities from ancestral lands, and extend a militant version of Islam across Nigeria. This is not the Islam of peace that many of our Muslim brothers practice with dignity; this is an extremist, expansionist ideology masquerading as faith a jihad that seeks dominance, not coexistence.
Each village burnt, each Priest kidnapped and killed, each church razed, each Christian family displaced adds to the dark tally of their mission. And yet, our leaders hesitate to call it by its name: jihad. They dress it in the polite language of “conflict,” “banditry,” or “communal dispute,” while the victims are buried week after week, nameless and forgotten.
I refuse to stay silent. I refuse to call it anything less than what it is, a systematic, ideologically driven attempt to Islamize regions of Nigeria and silence the Christian voice. When priests are kidnapped, when worshippers are slaughtered at Sunday Mass, when entire Christian towns are emptied overnight, what other proof do we need?
This is not hatred; it is truth spoken with a heavy heart. Nigeria cannot be reborn until it confronts this reality. Until we name the evil, we cannot defeat it. And until the world acknowledges that Christians are being targeted in what amounts to a slow, deliberate genocide, there will be no justice, no peace, and no rebirth.
Our silence is complicity. Our endurance has been mistaken for weakness. But I say now — and I will continue to say — the Christian blood that flows daily on Nigerian soil is a testament to the unfinished mission of the Fulani jihadists. And unless we rise to defend our faith, our heritage, and our land, they will succeed in what they have set out to do: to erase the Christian presence from the heart of Nigeria.
This is not alarmism; it is reality. And history will not forgive us if we fail to confront it.
In the rhythm of my story—non-technical founder, frustrated by broken promises, learning to code, writing about the decay and the rebirth—I find parallels. Nigeria is learning to code itself. It is learning—painfully—to rebuild its security architecture, its social contract, its promise. This move by Trump is like an external voice shouting: wake up. And I say: yes, Nigeria must wake up. Because the rebirth I write about cannot happen while the gunmen roam, the kidnappers laugh,and the innocent perish.
I call on my fellow Christians, Muslims, Nigerians young and old,to feel this as a turning point. To feel hope not as naïve optimism but as the fuel for action. To show up in town halls, in communities, in churches, mosques, marketplaces, and demand that our government protect us and the jihadists stop their expansionist activities. To invest in community security, neighbourhood watch, information sharing. To hold accountable those who send armies of terror into our villages. To rebuild the safety net. To reclaim Nigeria’s promise.
Yes, I echo the sentiment: if foreign pressure raises the temperature, so be it. Let our government rise under the heat of global scrutiny—not as a victim, but as a nation answering the call. Let the international community intervene diplomatically, let the designation signal that this is not a Nigerian side-issue, this is a global freedom of worship and human-rights issue.
I have said in Nigeria in Decay that rebirth begins when we stop normalising kidnapping, when we stop shrugging off murder as “part of life”. This moment—the CPC designation, the threats of intervention—offers us a crack in the narrative of despair. I urge us to widen that crack and step through it into something new: a Nigeria where parents sleep without fear, where worshippers walk to church or mosque without trembling, where the land vibrates with possibility not paranoia.
I stand with this. I support the recognition that our land is bleeding too much. I welcome the urgency that someone in power said: “the killings will not continue.” And now Nigeria must not continue either. The rebirth I write of is possible—but only if we act now.
To my fellow Nigerians: let us harness this momentum. Let us make our government know that we, the citizens of Nigeria are watching. Let us hold fast to faith not just in the heavens but in each other. Let us refuse to let our narrative of decay become permanent. Let us insist on rebirth. And let us not allow another mother to lose a child, another congregation to mourn innocents, another village to be hollow.
This is our moment. Nigeria, rise and get it right before it is too late. Let us build the safe, strong, hopeful nation we always dreamed of. And may no terror-gang, no kidnap ring, no corrupt official ever again think that they can steal our future and get away with it.
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